


Finally Going For That Picnic

by KillerQueeenBee



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 02:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20753174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerQueeenBee/pseuds/KillerQueeenBee
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale are set to go on a picnic after Not-Armageddon when things go awry. It all works out in the end though.





	Finally Going For That Picnic

It was a few days after the whole switching-bodies and fooling-their-respective-bosses business that Crowley suggested they go for a picnic. He’d wanted to go for that picnic since the goddamn 60’s, when Aziraphale told him one day they could, but he was too scared to ever ask for fear of another ‘you go too fast for me.' Then, after all they’d been through, he had hoped that it would be alright to ask, and Aziraphale had agreed to it (to Crowley's relief). 

He’d picked up some of Aziraphale’s favourite sushi and used a small miracle to keep it fresh and then got some pastries from a bakery that they’d attended the grand opening of together. (It had been after a long day spent taking care of Warlock and thwarting each other's influence, of course. He remembered that day fondly, and those years spent with Warlock because those had been years spent seeing Aziraphale every day.)

He also packed his finest wine and placed it all in a ridiculous tartan picnic basket he specifically miracled up because he knew Aziraphale would like it.

Though, after all his planning and fretting and gathering (and even thinking ahead enough to be a little early for once in his entire life), when Crowley let himself into the bookshop and called for the angel and got no immediate reply, his stupid, traitorous brain with disgusting human tendencies reminded him of what had happened the last time he’d been in the shop and Aziraphale hadn’t answered his shouted call of his name. 

“No, no, no. Angel? Angel!? Aziraphale!” He shouted, dropping the basket with panic rising in his chest even as a tiny voice in the back of his head told him that the angel could just be in the back and hadn't heard him, a louder, more terrifying voice was shouting in his mind that the bastards had gotten Aziraphale after all, and that he was gone and wasn’t coming back this time. 

“Not again, no. Please no.” He was on the verge of tears, and his legs felt like they might give out and it was all so ridiculous, because there was Aziraphale now, and he looked pretty real, and alive and Crowley felt like an idiot. 

“Angel?” He asked quietly, his voice sounding just as fragile as he felt.

Aziraphale was just checking his hair one last time in the mirror when he heard what he figured was Crowley, despite the fact that it was five minutes earlier than their set time, which meant it was at least fifteen minutes earlier than he'd been expecting Crowley. He was on his way when he heard Crowley scream his name, which was not a good sign. 

"Crowley, I'm coming!" The angel called, and he ran to the front of the shop. 

"Crowley. Crowley, my dear, what's wrong?" He asked quickly when he saw the demon trembling and struggling to breathe and sounding so very nearly broken. He put one hand on Crowley's shoulder and the other on his cheek. 

"You're alright. It's alright. I'm here. You're safe." Without thinking, Aziraphale's wings manifested themselves and he wrapped them tightly around Crowley to give him a little more reassurance that he was here and that he was safe in Aziraphale's presence and in his shop. 

Crowley's knees gave out and he was only kept from collapsing by Aziraphale's strong arms wrapped firmly around his back and shoulders to keep him up. Crowley fisted his hands into Aziraphale's coat and pressed his face against his shoulder and he struggled to breathe deeply and take in Aziraphale's scent. He was here and he was alive and he smelt just the same as he always did no matter what cologne his barbers told him to wear. 

"You're okay." He whispered, carding his fingers through Aziraphale's wings even though he knew that was more intimate a thing than he had any right to be doing. But he just had to be 100% that this was real. He forced his breaths to slow and while breathing was unnecessary for them, it helped calm him down some. 

"I'm so sorry, angel. I'm sorry." He got his feet back under himself and took a small step back, squeezing Aziraphale's shoulder and giving him a small smile while he hoped that the angel didn't notice the way he quickly miracled the tears off his cheeks. Thank Go- or Satan- or Whoever It Was that he was wearing his sunglasses. He didn't know what Aziraphale would say if he could properly see his eyes and he didn't think he wanted to ever know.

Aziraphale held on tight to Crowley until the demon took a step back and he had to fold his wings so Crowley was free to step farther away if he so desired. He didn't quite let them disappear just yet, as he was still quite worried about Crowley's state, and would be happy to take him back under his wings again, if Crowley wanted.

"Don't be sorry. There is absolutely no reason to be sorry, my dear. Just tell me what happened?" He asked carefully, looking over Crowley now that he was about a foot away and he could properly take in his entire form. Crowley seemed physically fine, and the shop seemed fine, and the world didn't feel any different, so what was wrong?

"I-" Crowley struggled to come up with the words that would accurately explain the panic he'd felt in a way that didn't sound as ridiculously vulnerable as he knew it would. He stepped back into Aziraphale's personal space and reached hesitantly toward Aziraphale's cheek.

Aziraphale leaned into Crowley's hand and placed his own over it. It sent a thrill through his chest to be so bold, but he thought the situation called for it. He wanted Crowley to know that it was okay. They were okay, and he could tell him anything at all. He smiled encouragingly at Crowley, stroking his thumb over the back of the demon's hand.

"I thought you were gone, angel. I thought they'd gotten you. And I- I was so scared. I can't lose you, Aziraphale." Crowley said, carefully leaving out the 'not again' that bubbled up on his tongue. His eyes were wide and vulnerable underneath the tint of his glasses, the entire eye gone serpent-like yellow as they were wont to do under immense stress.

"I know what losing you feels like, angel." Crowley whispered, grabbing the lapel of Aziraphale's coat with both hands and holding onto it tightly. The words he wanted to say were dangerous, and definitely inadvisable. But he went ahead and said them anyway, against his better judgement.

"I don't want to live in a world where there's no you."

Those words left Aziraphale taken aback. He wondered momentarily if Crowley was drunk, but he was far too coherent to be saying such articulate and shocking things. So it must be a sincere admission, which hurt his heart immensely. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that Crowley might love him so entirely to want to stop living if something happened to him. The thought chilled him to the core. He placed his hands over Crowley's and gently tried to pull them off his coat. Crowley let him, and was only consoled by the fact that Aziraphale kept hold of both Crowley's hands.

"My dear. There is no need for thoughts like that. I'm right here. I will always be right here, Crowley. Even if I discorporate, I think I can possibly scare them into allowing me a new body. Or at least I'll come back and try to possess someone until we can figure something out." Aziraphale declared, though he wasn't quite certain about what could happen if he got discorporated. He hoped he could find his way back, otherwise, he was sure he would die trying.

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale's hands and struggled to think of something to say that wouldn't upset himself or Aziraphale. 

"Okay." Is what Crowley managed to settle on, because he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He didn't want to think about losing Aziraphale any more than he had to, and right now, he didn't have to. The angel was right here, safe and sound, and that was what mattered the most in that moment.

"I'm dreadfully sorry that I frightened you, my dear. It won't happen again, I assure you. Are you alright? The truth, please, Crowley." Aziraphale asked, searching Crowley's eyes and face for signs that he was still hurting.

Crowley nodded slowly, after thoroughly considering the question and his answer. He wanted to be honest with Aziraphale, since the angel had asked him to be, and really, he deserved the truth after all...that.

"I'm okay, angel." Crowley said with a little nod. There was still a small part of him that worried about Aziraphale, but he tried to be sensible about it, since the angel in question was right in front of him, all in one piece. He gestured to the picnic basket, ready to change the subject and get on with their lives and pretend like that hadn't all happened.

"Shall we go?" He suggested softly.

"No. My dear, you have to promise me if something is bothering you in the future that you will tell me about it." Aziraphale said, catching on all too well to Crowley's little distraction. He didn't want Crowley to feel like they had to gloss over these moments like everything was fine. It perhaps wasn't as fine as it had seemed, and that was okay too.

"I promise, angel." Crowley agreed, though he had little to no idea how the Heaven he would ever bring up something like that. 'Oh, angel, I'm feeling a little like dying right now. Won't you please kiss it better?' Hardly. Perhaps they could figure out something better. Like safewords, but for mental health or something. They could worry about all that later.

"I'll hold you to that, Crowley. So you had better get used to telling me important things." Aziraphale insisted, though he had no idea what he'd do if not he found out Crowley hadn't told him something. He did hope that Crowley would at least try to tell him when he was hurting. He couldn't bear the thought of Crowley hurting quietly, for any reason.

"I'm sure you will, Aziraphale." Crowley smiled softly. He had never known the angel to be all that threatening, but if he put his mind to it, perhaps he could think of something devious to punish him with. But he doubted it would be extremely terrible.

"Now can we please go, angel?" Crowley was getting antsy and he hated talking about things like this. Ever since 'you go too fast for me' he'd been scared to say a lot of things, so he tried to keep the whole feelings business to a minimum.

"Yes, alright, my dear. We can go." Aziraphale agreed, smiling softly. In a move that Aziraphale thought possibly a touch too bold, the angel reached to carefully take Crowley's hand. He picked up the picnic basket with his free hand and he led Crowley out of his shop, locking the doors with a small nod of his head.

"I rather like the tartan, my dear." Aziraphale informed a slightly stunned Crowley upon actually looking at the basket. He steered them down the sidewalk toward St. James' Park, smiling brighter than any star Crowley had ever built.

Crowley flushed, knowing that Aziraphale knew he'd done the tartan specifically for him. Not to mention that Aziraphale was actually holding his hand, after all these bloody years. If Crowley were a lesser being he was sure his heart would have burst by now. He didn't even know what to say to Aziraphale, which was rather unfortunate because he really wanted to direct the attention away from himself right about now.

"Just needed a basket, really. Could've been any old basket." Crowley mumbled with a shrug, trying desperately to sound like it didn't matter to him, but not quite managing it. He was rather pleased to have Aziraphale's approval, after all.

"Say all you want about it, Crowley, but I see what you're doing and I appreciate it. You are, as you have always been, very sweet, my dear." Aziraphale said, smiling up at Crowley, who was still a soft pink color.

"I am not." Crowley mumbled, but there was no malice. There was no trace of the demon that had roughly pressed Aziraphale against a wall for calling him "nice." There was only a rather flustered being with a 6000 year old crush. 

Aziraphale decided not to fight Crowley on this one, though it was sorely tempting, he would get Crowley to see it over time. They soon arrived at the park after a bout of companionable silence. The angel found a shady patch of grass in a relatively unpopulated area and he set the basket down.

"This is lovely." Crowley said, mostly enjoying the small number of people out. He miracled up a dark tartan blanket which he spread out for them to sit on. He resolutely ignored Aziraphale's extremely pleased look and he sat down on the quilt.

"You're being awfully good to me, Crowley." Aziraphale said as he sat down beside the demon. He pulled the basket close to him so he could open it and inspect its contents. He very happily poured them both a glass of wine and he wore the most pleased smile at the sight of his favorite sushi alongside pastries from his favorite local bakery.

"Well, I've always tried to be good to you, angel. It just doesn't always go according to plan." Crowley said carefully.

"When has it ever "not gone to plan?" You're always nice to me, Crowley." Aziraphale quirked his brow as he looked at Crowley. He couldn't fathom the demon thinking he'd ever done anything wrong when it came to interactions between them. He set his wine glass aside and took a bite of a cream puff and it was almost good enough to distract him from this conversation. Almost.

"I don't know. Sometimes I just... Mean to compliment you, but it comes out all wrong when I speak." Crowley shrugged and he struggled to ignore the part of his brain that told him that now seemed like an awfully good time to turn into a snake. He only just managed to keep his skin from turning into scales.

"Oh Crowley. That's very sweet of you. Though, I've never noticed anything especially untoward. If we are being completely honest with each other, it's usually me who is a bit... Well, less than kind to you." Aziraphale pointed out sheepishly.

"Less than kind? Angel, I know you never meant all that "foul fiend" nonsense." Crowley snorted. Sometimes, it had hurt him when it sounded like Aziraphale really meant it. Other times, it just frustrated him how much of himself Aziraphale had to hide in order to feel safe around the other angels.

Aziraphale raised his glass of wine and nodded at Crowley to do the same. "Well, from now on I promise not to say anything like that to you. I never meant it and I never actually could. You mean the world to me, my dear, and I am so glad that that somehow we managed to avoid dying in a very large war against each other." He said the last part with a smile that conveyed his adoration as well as his immense relief that they hadn't lost everything. That he hadn't lost Crowley.

"You mean everything to me, angel. I'm very, very glad we didn't die because now I can get a chance to properly show you just how important you are to me." Crowley said and he smiled. It was a bit bold of him to say it so plainly, but he figured they could afford to be bold now.

"To us, my dear. And to a new start that will allow us to be what we'd like." Aziraphale said, and he clinked his glass lightly against Crowley's. The words were a promise that he was finally ready to be what Crowley had wanted to be for so long. He wasn't afraid of Heaven or Hell anymore, and he wanted Crowley more than anything in the universe.

"To us." Crowley echoed, and he felt his heart swell at the way Aziraphale's words fell.

After a sip of wine, Aziraphale felt a small spike of courage and he leaned to place a very quick and extremely light kiss on Crowley's lips. That kiss wasn't about physicality or passion, but it was a simple, silent declaration of love.

The second kiss was another thing entirely. As well as the third.


End file.
